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Posts tagged ‘Love’

My First Guru Had Four Feet

October 15, 2013

Brooke Burgess

Old Ghost...

(the following is reposted from a submission of mine that was featured on Tiny Buddha last month, and again on Life As a Widower.  It’s a true story from my childhood, though my folks would probably say I was leaning into ‘literary license’ territory. ;)  That said, this is the unedited version of the tale, which includes a pictorial peek at my old stomping grounds.  More importantly, I want to commemorate the completion of the outline for a long-in-development series of four children’s books, directly inspired by the events recounted below.  For all of you taking part in this year’s NaNoWriMo…know that I’m there in the literary trenches with you – BB)

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I’ve always been a ‘cat guy’.  This was long before my Buddhist friends told me stories of how cats are true earthly masters, here on earth to show us the Way. Or, to demonstrate the meditative perfection of the feline purr.  Or, how the life of a cat is seen in some traditions as reward for ‘good Karma’.

When I lived in rural Nova Scotia, the house was blessed with two cats named Midge and Mooch: tabby mixes, who would come and go as they pleased, and were kind enough…if not overly affectionate.  I kept asking for a cat of my own, and my folks eventually buckled.  For my seventh birthday, I received a black and white kitten with golden eyes and a salmon-pink nose.  He took to me instantly. Love at first meow.

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Of Endings and Enlightenment (RIP)

September 10, 2013

Brooke Burgess

Of Endings and Englightenment
(I’m breaking with formalities and the usual distractions to feature not only a ‘mindful’ side of the creative process – meditation practice – but also to honour one of my most treasured personal influences.   Joanne Telfer passed away in Sept 2008, and I haven’t spoken of it publicly since.  I hope you’ll do me the kindness of enduring this lengthy and somewhat maudlin post for the sincere revelations within.   Many thanks, BB)

 

This hurts.  

So much so that I don’t want to be here anymore. 
 
All I can think is that I’d rather be with you.  Wherever that is.
You’d probably just mock me, and call it a ‘cop-out’.
 
I haven’t suffered anything compared to you.
 
But you only need to see it once, remember?

You only need to know that it’s real…

 

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It seemed like a grand idea at the time.  Self-discovery!  Personal improvement!  Spiritual progression!  Ten days at a remote Buddhist retreat in southeast Thailand.  Eighteen hours each day to focus on ‘mindfulness’, in whatever task was assigned.

The wake-up bell at 4AM.  Using candlelight to wash and dress oneself.   Bare feet on cold, wet grass.  Orion’s jewelled belt pointing the way through the jungle from a sky made of black velvet.

The sexes sit on opposite sides of the sand-floored sala.  This divide persists for the duration.  Separate dorms.  Dining areas. Walking paths.  Eye contact is discouraged.  A deeper, deafening silence.

And then the day truly begins…

WORK(s) IN PROGRESS

July 5, 2010

Brooke Burgess

Follow the Signs...open your Heart...and you will find It.

Working on another draft this month…

Should have more to talk about by summer’s end…

But if I’ve learned anything from my time on the prairies, it’s the age-old lesson regarding eggs and baskets…

The Way is one of five projects currently in development.

Smoke on that…and enjoy your summer 8)

AND AT THE END OF MY STORY…

May 24, 2010

Brooke Burgess

As most Geminis tend towards, I’m of two minds regarding the LOST finale.  After 6 years and 100+hrs of direct viewing investment – not including discussion forums, fan films, ARGs, and more than a few diluted attempts at transmedia extension of the property – we the audience craved Resolution.  And now, on the DAL (Day After LOST), a lot of the show’s Followers (Christian Shepherd, indeed) are of similar mind:

“Intellectually disappointing…yet emotionally fulfilling.”

And I agree with this to a certain extent.  It nagged at me throughout the broadcast, this ever-present specter of Unanswered Questions.  The canyon-sized plot holes of tail-eating logic.  The long-dangling threads of era-splintering Mythology.  Big Moments – imbued with seeming importance for many seasons – now dissolved like so much dirt in the glowing heart of the Island Washing Machine.   My rational mind – my scientist – kept pursing his lips and shaking his head and scoffing at cracks in the Design.

But then came the Sum of all things…

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